In cahoots

Nell: I’m beginning to think Mutley is right.

Me: He usually is. About what?

Nell: Flamingos. Annoying creatures and such a vulgar shade of pink.

Me: I don’t think I know any.

Nell: So Valerie and I were having a quick cappuccino and a croissant down by the quay.

Me: Do I know Valerie?

Nell: She is a French bulldog and owns patisseries all over the place.

Me: Oh, that Valerie. How do you know her?

Nell: From my time as an exchange student in Paris. We bonded over Sartre.

Me: Why is she here?

Nell: I thought she would make an excellent judge for our cake tasting panel.

Me: I see.

Nell: Anyway, we were happily chatting.

Me: In French?

Nell: Mais certainement. Where was I?

Me: Talking French and eating forbidden food.

Nell: I’ll ignore that. I look over the estuary and what do I see?

Me: Boats?

Nell: No. A flamingo. Standing on one leg.

Me: No?

Nell: Who stands on one leg in the middle of an estuary?

Me: I hope the tide was out.

Nell: Of course it was. But that’s not all. It was chatting away to the Beefies and eating a takeaway.

Me: Indian, or Chinese?

Nell: Fish and chips.

Me: Well, it’s in the right place for fish.

Nell: That is not the point. The flamingo is obviously in cahoots with the Beefies. It all makes sense.

Me: Oh. Do you think it was one of those hostile high flying flamingos from the city?

Nell: Of course. We need to tell Mutley.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

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